"Got it all," Kent announced, waving the clipboard like it was a trophy. "Surveyed everyone, collected what credits they had. Also asked them what they thought we needed most."
Bob raised an eyebrow. "What did they say we needed most?"
"Some want better gear, so they voted for the Trading Post. Others were more concerned with preserving food and supplies, so Storage got a lot of support too." Kent sat beside him, thumbing through the notes. "But hands down everyone agrees we need more places to sleep. Apparently, Blake is a snorer. Like, wildlife-fleeing levels of snoring and he’s not the only one."
Bob chuckled. "Makes sense. If we’re going to be here a while, we’ll need real shelter. That Basic Housing build option…” He paused trying to remember the description. “It costs wood, stone, labor hours, and credits."
"Yeah." Kent nodded. "The problem is, we don’t know what a unit of stone or wood actually is. Is a unit a log? A bundle? A tree?"
George walked up just in time to overhear. "I was thinking the same thing. Dave and I were arguing about it earlier. He says it’s a pile about waist high. I say it’s weight-based."
Kent rolled his eyes. "Of course you do. I bet it is a cord."
“A cord? Do you even know how much a cord is?” George’s voice was ramping up.
Bob held up a hand. "Guys, let’s table the measurement issue for a second. How many credits did you collect?"
"Seven hundred and sixty-two total." Kent handed over the clipboard. "Mostly small amounts. I had the most with 291. Blake was hoarding 263. Jill and Alice had quite a bit. We pooled what we could."
George crossed his arms. "Then we get the Trading Post. We’ll need actual weapons and supplies if we’re going out more often."
"No," Kent said, immediate and firm. "We need the Storage. It helps with food preservation and theft prevention, and the inventory management can help us figure out the System units for wood and stone."
"You’re thinking too small," George shot back. "We need access to the System Market. Credits don’t matter unless we can use them. Trading Post comes first. We can buy a unit to find out how much it is."
"Storage helps everyone now," Kent countered. "Trading Post only helps whoever has credits and knows what to buy. Everyone gave up their credits so they won’t be able to use it."
George stepped closer. "We’re not playing house here, Kent. We're in a hostile zone. We need leverage. Trading gives us a way to gear up, even if we're short on resources."
"And storing food so it doesn’t spoil? That’s not leverage?"
They both turned to Bob, waiting for him to play judge.
Bob sighed. "I see the case for both."
Then something clicked. He glanced at Kent then at George thinking quickly, “George? How many credits do you have? Kent hasn’t asked you yet.”
George pulled up his status to check. “231. Why? What has this got to do with which building we build?”
Bob just smiled. “Both buildings cost 500 credits.”
George nodded slowly. "Right."
Bob looked at Kent. "And Kent has 762…" Then he looked at George. “And George has 231. Which puts us at 993.” Bob just smiled waiting for them to figure it out.
Kent blinked. "We can get both!"
“How? We need a thousand!” George looked confused. Then realization hit him. Kent hadn’t gotten Bob’s credits yet either. With all three of them combining their credits they had enough.
"Fine," George said first. "But I want say on what we buy from the Trading Post. When we have some credits."
"You get that, if I get to oversee the Storage."
They nodded. A handshake seemed too formal, so they just stood there, slightly less tense than before.
Bob opened the build interface and queued up both:
- SYSTEM TRADING POST (FLEDGLING)
COST: 500 CREDITS - STORAGE (FLEDGLING)
COST: 500 CREDITS
Bob first selected the Trading Post. Once he did, a new prompt appeared, asking him to select a location for the building. Not knowing the optimal spot, he chose the front porch of the cabin. It didn’t work—likely because people were standing in the way. Apparently, the System didn’t allow structures to be placed on top of someone. Instead of asking everyone to move, he tried selecting the garage—and this time, it worked.
Everyone watched as the garage began to shake. The garage didn’t just change—it recalibrated. The air shimmered as if space itself was being rewritten. The door warped, the handle melted into a counter, and dark obelisks blinked into place like chess pieces on a board that hadn’t existed moments before.
The rest of the garage remained mostly the same, but the three windows each centered behind an obelisk appeared above the counter. These windows were opaque and their use wasn’t readily apparent.
Bob tore his eyes away from the transformation and returned to the build menu. He selected the Storage Yard and placed it behind the garage, hoping it would be out of the way. When he made the selection, the trees in that area vanished, and the ground smoothed into a compacted, hardened surface. Then raw lumber appeared in a corner, and support posts rose—twenty feet high on one side, thirty on the other. A rough wooden roof sloped away from him, with a railing between the posts and a visible gate on one side.
Once the buildings were completed a notification flashed in Bob’s vision.
KOLOB SANCTUM CONSTRUCTION COMPLETE:
- SYSTEM TRADING POST (FLEDGLING)
- STORAGE (FLEDGLING)
NEW BUILD OPTIONS AVAILABLE
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
Curious about the new buildings, Bob left the Obelisk before looking at the new options and approached the Trading Post. He stepped up to one of the miniature obelisks. Looking at it and the window behind didn’t reveal much. He reached out and touched it—just like he had with the Outpost Obelisk.
SYSTEM TRADING POST (BASIC) BUY OR SELL?
He selected Buy, revealing a massive list, thousands of items. Looking over at the others, he explained how to use the Trading Post. Stepping aside, Bob let someone else take his place and headed toward the Storage Yard.
STORAGE YARD (BASIC) CAPACITY: 1000 UNITS
STORED MATERIALS:
- WOOD: 150 UNITS
- STONE: 25 UNITS
The Storage Yard already listed stored materials—wood and stone, both quantified in clean rows. For the first time, they had a real way to track resources in one place. No guesswork, no counting logs or peeking into piles. This changed everything for future construction.
“I think so too,” Bob replied. “Now we can start collecting enough materials for more buildings.” He glanced back toward the Trading Post. “We just need credits. Hopefully we can scrounge up enough to sell.”
As more people stepped up to the black obelisks, Bob noticed something else—food, clothes, even low-grade tools started materializing on the counter. Some things were familiar; others weren’t.
Not everything here was from Earth.
Bob wasn’t sure what that meant yet, but it made the Trading Post feel a lot less like a vending machine and a lot more like a window to something bigger.
As they watched, the window above George lit up with the image of a sword. It slowly rotated before disappearing. A few minutes later, another sword appeared. Curious, Bob walked over.
“George, what are you doing?”
Without looking away, George replied, “Trying to buy better weapons. I like the fire pokers, but I thought I could upgrade. I still have some credits. The System left me some when you bought the buildings.”
Another sword appeared.
“Why do they keep popping up in the window?” Bob asked.
“It shows the item you're looking at. Kind of a double-check feature.” George grinned at the image, then turned back to the obelisk. Moments later, two identical swords materialized on the counter, each in a matching leather scabbard. They didn’t seem enchanted or special, but George picked them up and walked over.
“I was barely able to afford both,” he said. “There were more expensive ones, but the descriptions didn’t say why they cost more.”
Kent frowned. “Didn’t you say you had the Blunt Weapons skill? These aren’t blunt weapons.”
“Correct. But I also have the Two-Handed Fighting skill. I’m hoping I’ll unlock a sword skill through use.” George strapped the scabbards to his belt on either side. “We’ve talked about how skills emerge from action. Maybe this’ll trigger something.” He flashed a cheesy grin. “How do I look? Like a real knight?”
“Not really,” Kent said with a chuckle. “You need armor.”
George shrugged. “Too expensive. Couldn’t afford armor and weapons.”
As they spoke, other people started using the Trading Post. Weapons, clothes, and food appeared on the counter and were quickly collected. Apparently, a lot of people hadn’t handed over everything to Kent. Bob couldn’t blame them. Trust came in layers and they were still building the first.
Eventually, the activity slowed and an obelisk opened up. Bob approached. Browsing he noticed a few interesting items: a curved blade with a glass edge. A protein bar labeled in a script he didn’t recognize. A pack of seeds labeled “Z'tharn Sprout (Requires Acidic Soil).”
This wasn’t just a marketplace. It was a message: You’re not the only ones playing this game.
Switching to Sell, he was prompted to place an item on the counter for evaluation. He had nothing with him, so he stepped away to return later.
Walking back to the cabin with Kent and George, Bob was lost in thought. Kent said something, but Bob didn’t register it until George barked, “Earth to Bob, are you in there?”
Bob frowned. “What?”
“Kent asked what your plans are for the day,” George said.
“Rest. Tami still has me on a strict R & R. Hopefully with a couple more heals today I’ll be right as rain for tomorrow. Why?” Bob asked.
“I wanted to start scouting the area around the cabin to start planning on wall placements. You ok with a group looking around?” Kent said.
Bob nodded and took a seat on the porch before Tami found him up, walking around. “I think that is a good idea but don’t go out too far.”
Kent nodded and then headed back towards the crowd at the Trading Post.
Jill came out while Bob and George were talking. She stopped at the edge of the porch and leaned against a post. Her eyes were shooting daggers at George.
George noticed Jill looking at him. “Jill? Is this about cooking… again?”
Her eyes narrowed, arms folded in defiance at his questions.
“All I’m saying,” George said, trying to keep his voice level, “is that you have the Cooking skill. You got a cooking quest, same as me. If we’re going to make it out here, we need to lean into the roles the System gave us.”
Jill scoffed. “So now I’m the camp cook because the System says so? What’s next, George? Laundry quests? Maid achievements?”
George exhaled sharply. “That’s not what this is. I’m not trying to assign you chores, I just need help. There are forty-three people here. I can’t cook for all of them on my own.”
“Maybe they can cook for themselves,” she snapped. “I didn’t get yanked out of my life and dropped into a nightmare so I could become your kitchen assistant.”
George took a step closer, voice rising. “This isn’t about me! It’s about the group. You think I like stirring pots all day? I’ve got the same damn skill, Jill! I’m just doing what I can to keep people from starving.”
“And I’m doing what I can to not lose myself in all this,” she shot back. “You think I want to wake up every day and be reduced to what the System tells me I’m ‘good’ at? What if I want to fight? What if I want to do something that matters?”
They both turned as Bob knocked his sledgehammer against the deck. He leaned forward on his hammer, and looked at both of them without saying anything.
George gestured toward Jill. “Bob, can you please tell her I’m not trying to boss her around? I just need help cooking. She has a quest and skill, same as me.”
Jill folded her arms, glaring. “And I’m not going to be your personal chef just because the System says so. I didn’t sign up to play housemaid for forty strangers.”
Bob just leaned forward even more resting heavily on his hammer. “Seriously?” He looked from one to the other and sighed. “Jill. No one’s going to force you to do anything. If you don’t want to cook, don’t cook.”
She blinked, her stance easing.
“The System might be nudging us,” Bob added, “but we still decide what kind of community we’re building. This isn’t about assigning roles. It’s about asking.” He then stared at George. “And respecting the answer.”
George muttered, “I’m just trying to make sure people eat.”
“And we will,” Bob said. “We’ll find help. Maybe rotate duties if we need to. But no one’s getting forced into anything.”
Jill nodded, a little surprised. “Thanks. That’s all I needed.”
Just then, Dave appeared at the cabin door. Seeing Bob, Kent, George and Jill he paused. “The scouting party is all set. I just got commitments from the last two going.”
Jill, nearby, laughed. "You two are hopeless. I’ll be in the kitchen."
She left. George grinned. "Looks like she’s helping with cooking after all. Thanks."
Bob shrugged. "I didn’t do anything."
George laughed and invited Dave to sit. Together, they began sketching a rough plan for tomorrow’s scouting party. Bob was surprised that Tami had chosen to go with them. There were nine in total. George, Dave, Blake, Alice, Tami, Jürgen, and three others Bob didn’t know.
Tomorrow, they'd venture into the unknown. But tonight, they’d gathered like firelight, close enough to push back the dark, if only a little.